


Unscheduled

by j_quadrifrons



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: (threatened not actual pregnancy), Canon Asexual Character, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Exhibitionism, Kink Meme, M/M, Objectification, Pregnancy Kink, Sexual Coercion, Spitroasting, Trans Male Character, trans jon sims
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-25 20:24:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21362173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_quadrifrons/pseuds/j_quadrifrons
Summary: Peter has better things to be doing than whatever meeting Martin had on his schedule. The Archivist, for one. And if Martin wants to help, well, the more the merrier.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Martin Blackwood/Peter Lukas/Jonathan Sims, Peter Lukas/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 20
Kudos: 272
Collections: Rusty Kink





	Unscheduled

**Author's Note:**

> for the kinkmeme prompt: Peter/Martin/Jon, dubcon, spitroasting, manipulation  
https://rusty-kink.dreamwidth.org/1380.html?thread=134500#cmt134500
> 
> Use of "clit" for trans male anatomy  
Heed the tags

Peter rolls his hips lazily and the Archivist moans, a whimpering, bitten-off noise he can no longer stifle. He's been sitting on Peter's cock for - well, Peter's never been any good at keeping track of time, but long enough that he's starting to think about finishing the thing properly, though right now he's still very much enjoying having Elias's pet project biddable and trembling in his arms, shirt damp with sweat and dangerous voice reduced to ragged moans. He wraps an arm around Jon's waist to rub lazily at his clit, slippery with arousal despite all his earlier objections, and Jon's hips twitch like he doesn't know whether to move into or away from him. Peter grins and bites at his neck. Yes, this is a much more pleasant way to spend the afternoon than whatever meeting was supposed to be on the schedule.   
  
Jon is breathing hard, still trying to pretend he's got composure to maintain, which is probably why he doesn't react at all to the knock on the door or the latch opening. Which is only fair really; Peter has told everyone that he has an open-door policy. It's not his fault if they don't often listen.  
  
"Martin!" he says cheerfully, his tone as cheerful as usual. "I was wondering where you were."  
  
"Martin–" Jon tenses, clenching pleasantly around Peter's cock, and before he can say anything else Peter claps a hand over his mouth and fucks up into him, drawing forth another stifled moan and throwing him off his balance.   
  
The man himself is standing shock-still in the doorway, his soft, lovely mouth hanging open and his cheeks turning a delightful pink. Peter can't quite tell if he's embarrassed or angry. He's turned on, certainly, and too distracted to even try to hide it. His eyes are fixed on the Archivist, as usual, and Peter sighs inwardly. The boy shows so much promise, but he's lacking some fundamental instinct for isolation.  
  
"Unfortunately I'm a bit busy at the moment," Peter continues, when Martin doesn't move from where he's frozen in the doorway, "I'm sure you understand. If you give me about–" he pinches at Jon's clit, just to see the look on Martin's face when he moans, "twenty minutes, I'll be right with you."   
  
Finally Martin finds his voice, strained though it is. "I don't– I mean, I– How long has this been going on?" He's clearly trying to sound stern, but it's coming out nearly panicked, and he's not making any moves to leave. If anything, Peter notes with interest, he's coming closer.   
  
Jon wrenches his head away from Peter's grip and gasps out, "Martin, this isn't what it– Peter said that you–" Peter gets ahold of him again, shoving three fingers deep into his mouth. Jon bites down, irritated, but Peter pays him no mind.  
  
"None of that, now," he says mildly. "You see what I mean," he addresses Martin directly. "This one can't be trusted to follow my very simple rules. But I'll tell you what," he says as he puts his other hand on Jon's thigh and pulls his legs further open, partly for the way he tightens around Peter's cock with the strain of it and partly for the way Martin's eyes go wide as he fights to keep them fixed on Jon's face. "If you'd really like to stay, you can have his mouth. Keep him from asking any–inconvenient questions." Jon's entire body tightens and he grinds his hips down into Peter's lap and arches into his hand like a good little slut. "Might do you some good," Peter adds. "Get it out of your system."  
  
Martin sputters. "You can't just– how did– no, look, you can't just offer someone else up like that, that's..." He trails off, helpless. He's come close enough now that surely he can see everything, the Archivist wet and split open on Peter's cock, the flushed red marks where Peter has been pinching his thighs, and Martin has given up entirely on pretending he isn't looking.  
  
"Oh, all right," Peter concedes, and he takes his fingers out of Jon's mouth.  
  
He takes a deep, shuddering breath, fingers clenching on Peter's thighs. "Please, Martin," he begs, nearly incoherent with overstimulation and exhaustion; for all his powers, his physical stamina is really lacking. "I want–" Peter rolls his hips again, uninterested in what the Archivist wants. "Please don't go."  
  
That's enough, more's the pity; Martin draws in a shuddering breath and Peter can feel the isolation slipping away from him. But he steps closer, hands braced on the desk just across from them, and his eyes are dark and hungry. Well, that's close enough to agreement. Peter stands suddenly, tipping Jon forward onto the top of the desk; he barely catches himself on his hands, and he gives a sharp cry as Peter thrusts forward and seats himself balls-deep once again. Peter closes his eyes and fucks lazily into him a couple of times, just to relish the new angles.   
  
When he opens his eyes Martin is glaring at him. "Oh, don't look so scandalized," Peter says. "It's hardly the first time he's been fucked over this desk."  
  
Martin licks his lips, and his eyelids flutter in a way that's not entirely appalled. "I don't believe you," he says, but he doesn't sound convinced. Of course, that could be because the Archivist is nuzzling into his groin, all but mouthing at his cock through his trousers. One of Martin's hands cups his cheek, much too gently, while the other flutters around his shoulder, uncertain.  
  
"Go ahead," Peter suggests, settling into a comfortable rhythm that has Jon bracing himself on the desk so that he doesn't break his nose on Martin's hip. "He's been panting for it this whole time, I'm sure he'll appreciate your contribution."  
  
His assistant glares at him again, a little more emphatically this time, but then Jon breathes Martin's name with a frankly offputting amount of affection in it, and Martin's undoing his trousers and pulling out his cock, already hard and leaking. It's just as lovely as Peter had imagined, and rather larger, too; he spares a moment of regret that he hadn't bothered to arrange something like this before.

The Archivist takes Martin's cock eagerly into his mouth, pushing himself down as far as he can go without a moment's hesitation, and Martin moans, wanton and lovely. His fingers card gently through Jon's hair, though he's visibly resisting the impulse to hold on tight. Which is a pity, really; he'll have to see what he can do about that.  
  
"Surprisingly good at it, isn't he?" Peter says conversationally.  
  
"Christ, why are you always like this?" Martin mutters. Then he gasps as Jon does something interesting. "This is–this is incredibly inappropriate. You could have at least locked the door," he says when he gets his breath back.   
  
Peter snaps his hips a little harder to make Jon moan and watch Martin's face contort at the effect. "Oh, but it got him so wet to know that the door was open," he says, and the explanation is worth it for the way Martin's hips jerk and Jon gags a little on his dick. "It's these Beholding people; exhibitionist sluts, every one of them." He leans forward to grab a handful of Jon's hair, pulling hard enough to sting. "Aren't you?"   
  
Of course he can't answer with his mouth full like this, and it's gratifying to see how well his plan is working. Instead Jon sucks harder, his throat working as he struggles to take Martin deeper. Peter doesn't let go of Jon's hair until Martin has his fingers laced in it again, tugging harder this time.   
  
"You should try his cunt sometime," he suggests, and Martin actually blushes, the sweet boy. "I wonder, did you know what he has between his legs? Or were you fantasizing about sucking his cock? I hope it's not too much of a disappointment." From the way the Archivist writhes and tightens around him, the humiliation of it is cutting deep. "Or we could trade places now, if you like. I've come in him once already, you could fill him up. Do you think between the two of us we could get him pregnant?" Martin stammers, horrified, and Jon moans, gushing wet as he comes again on Peter's cock. Peter grabs the edge of the desk and fucks into him harder, forcing him hard into Martin. "Just like that," he says encouragingly as Martin bucks his hips up into Jon's face again. "He likes it rough."  
  
Martin looks uncertain, but Jon has reached forward to curl a hand around his hip, urging him on. Martin brushes his fingers across Jon's cheek, where they come away damp, but he takes the encouragement, sets his hand on the back of Jon's neck and rocks into him.   
  
The Archivist is wonderful like this, stuffed full and helpless, shoved roughly back and forth between the Peter's cock in his cunt and Martin's in his throat; watching Martin get into it is even better, as his eyes drift closed and he finds his rhythm, sharp and fast, just a little more than the Archivist can easily take. For a moment there's nothing but the filthy wet sounds of sex. Peter's barely opened his mouth to comment on Martin's efforts when he says, "Do you think you could just shut up for five minutes?" Jon makes a choked sound that might have been a laugh.   
  
"If you're going to be like that," Peter mutters, and sets himself to riding Jon hard to his own completion. After all this time it doesn't take long; he comes with a deep sigh, pulling out of the Archivist to splash his seed on his dripping wet cunt before fucking slowly back into the filthy mess of him. Peter settles in, hips pressed against the Archivist's bony arse, leaning heavily across his back and pressing him into the desk. It's hard to tell if that's what's making him struggle for breath, or if it's the helpless way Martin is fucking his face, clearly very near the moment of crisis himself. His assistant is a lovely study in contrasts, soft ginger curls damp with sweat and falling in his face while his hips thrust hard into Jon's open mouth and his fingers clench tightly in his hair.   
  
Peter decides it can't hurt to voice his appreciation. Regular feedback is an important part of good management. He's been reading up on it. "I'm sure Jon appreciates your hard work, too," he's sure to add. "He's too much of a slut for me to keep up with on my own, which is really quite an achievement."   
  
"Peter," Martin says in that warning tone he gets that means Peter's done something he disapproves of (although Peter suspects he's not going to get an explanatory lecture this time), and then he's coming, his mouth falling open as his hips jerk, burying his cock deep in Jon's throat. Jon comes again, too, a weak echo of his first orgasms (Peter hasn't bothered keeping count of them, but it was quite a few) but still too much for Peter's spent cock and he has to pull out of him at last. The noise the Archivist makes as Peter withdraws – or is it at the wet sound of it, loud in the sudden quiet of the office – is its own kind of gratifying.   
  
Jon is still suckling gently at Martin's softening cock and Martin's breath is coming in little gasps as he pets through the Archivist's hair, tugging every few strokes just enough to make him flinch at it. It's disgustingly affectionate.   
  
"Lovely as this is," Peter says, tidying his ruined trousers as if there's any chance he won't smell of sex for the rest of the day, "I believe we do all have work to be getting on with. Martin?"  
  
Martin takes a steadying breath and his fingers still in Jon's hair. "Right," he says, reluctant but still obedient. "Right." The wounded, lost noise the Archivist makes when Martin stops touching him tastes like the sweetest kind of loneliness. Martin hesitates but he follows Peter out of the office, which is the important thing. The Archivist will clean himself up and find his way back to his Archives, or he won't; it hardly matters. And anyway Peter has questions for Martin about the scheduling rota. He thinks he's nearly figured out what's been going wrong in the library.

**Author's Note:**

> Please come yell about TMA with me, I have too many feelings  
[@j_quadrifrons](https://twitter.com/j_quadrifrons), [backofthebookshelf](https://backofthebookshelf.tumblr.com)


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